You might not think of Muhammad Ali as someone who needed anyone to believe in him, but that’s because you saw him only later in life. You saw the confident boxer, the brilliant self-promoter, the master of his craft, the fearless warrior.
But there was a time when he was a scared child, like every other kid. He was a young black boy named Cassius Clay in a segregated America, who struggled at Central High School in Louisville, Kentucky. His parents, worn down by life and work, expected little of him; the world, even less.
One person believed in Cassius Clay, however, and it was enough to change everything.
“Here he is, ladies and gentlemen!” his school principal, Atwood Wilson, would shout when he saw him, “Cassius Clay! The next heavyweight champion of the world. This guy is going to make a million dollars!” When some teachers wanted to fail Cassius, whose priority was athletics, not academics, Wilson intervened and gave a speech that few ever forgot. “Do you think I am going to be the principal of a school that Cassius Clay didn’t finish?” he told them. “He’s not going to fail in my school. I’m going to say, ‘I taught him!’ ”
Every kid needs someone like this. Somebody who believes in them. Why was Muhammad Ali such a great fighter? Because somebody fought for him. You know who can do this for your kids? Who has to be that first, loudest, most resolute cheerleader for them? You.